


Like A Firework

by BeautifulUnseen



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 11:30:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15817995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulUnseen/pseuds/BeautifulUnseen
Summary: Kurt, who has tried to stay away from the music industry, meets a beautiful stranger one night at a party and falls hard. The only problem is the beautiful stranger is Blaine Anderson, rockstar.Written for scrapmom2112 for the 2018 Klaine Fic Exchange.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scrapmom2112](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrapmom2112/gifts).



> Based on a prompt from scrapmom2112.   
> “Famous (and a little bit older, but not much), Blaine meets a younger Kurt. Blaine can be famous for anything you choose and I don’t care how Kurt meets him, but I think it would be funny if Kurt didn’t know who Blaine was and that he was famous.”  
> Enjoy! 
> 
> This work was made possible by coming-up-Rosie and slayediest :)

 

"Come on, Kurt, just say you'll go." Mercedes flashed her best pouty face to her friend, who had his arms crossed in steadfast opposition.

"I said I would spend time with you, not go to some swanky party." Kurt turned his back to her and started folding up the blanket she had been using while she slept. He loved when Mercedes visited from Los Angeles, and was always the first to offer up his couch for her.

"But it's New Year's Eve. You were going to go to a party anyway," she pointed out.

"Yeah, a party with my friends. Where I know people."

"I'll introduce you to people. Come on," she pleaded again. "I'm still promoting my new album, and I'm supposed to perform my single."

"What kind of person throws a party for all of his famous friends to perform?" The idea made Kurt roll his eyes, even though a year ago, he would have jumped at the chance to go to such a party.

"A former show-choir-nerd-turned-rockstar. Please?"

Kurt sighed. "I don't know…"

"As soon as I'm done performing, we can go somewhere else instead. And you never know...maybe you'll meet someone special there." Mercedes was his number one supporter when it came to his love life. She was always trying to find him someone to date, but her standards were almost higher than his, if that was possible.

"Highly doubtful. But thanks for being optimistic."

Despite his protests against going to the party, Mercedes could be quite persuasive, and to neither's surprise, later that evening, he was walking arm-in-arm with her to the towncar she had at her disposal.

"Thanks for doing this for me," she squeezed his arm as they slid into the backseat.

He smoothed his jacket over the blue button-down that opened slightly over his chest. Mercedes had promised him that the color brought out his eyes and would surely attract good looking boys who could cure his months-long slump. He figured it was his pants that would more likely get the job done, highlighting his greatest features: his long legs and perfectly toned ass (thanks to his trusty _Buns of Steel_ workout video).

"Anything for my best girl. So, whose party is this?"

"Blaine Anderson. He's a musician," she added for his benefit.

"Never heard of him," Kurt shrugged.

"I know you haven't. Still avoiding music?"

"I'm much happier now," he asserted. Only he understood the heartbreaking pain of something he had once loved so much turning against him.

"Are you?" Mercedes raised an eyebrow skeptically.

Kurt hummed but didn't answer, turning his head to watch the city pass by. He knew Mercedes tried to understand, but was still offended that he had not listened to her new album. He did feel bad, and tried to make it up to her in any way he could, like watching all of her interviews, buying her merchandise, and shamelessly promoting her on social media. He brushed off the guilty feeling that started to creep in and focused on the tall buildings and twinkling lights of his home.

Eventually, they pulled up to a gorgeous, sprawling home with a gated entrance. A long drive led to huge double doors where the car came to a stop.

"Swanky," Kurt commented, taking in the estate.

"I've heard it's his parents' house. They were singers, too."

Kurt and Mercedes got out and were immediately asked to pose for a photograph.

Other guests were heading into the house, but despite the freezing temperatures, most of the commotion seemed to be coming from the backyard where colorful lights flashed and loud music played. Kurt could feel the vibrations from the bass from the driveway.

He and Mercedes stepped inside, where their jackets were taken by an attendant and they were shown directly to the bar, much to Kurt's relief.

"Long Island Iced Tea, please," he ordered, knowing he would need something strong to get him through the night.

Mercedes was swept up into conversation after conversation and asked to pose for more photographs, into which she hauled a reluctant Kurt. She introduced him to anyone and everyone - especially cute boys – but Kurt really wasn't interested.

"I'm going to head outside, want to come?" she asked hopelessly, knowing already what his answer would be.

He shook his head apologetically, cringing away from the idea of live music.

"I'll see you later," he told her as the crowd parted them.

He ordered another drink and tried mingling again, but found it difficult to keep up with conversation having distanced himself from the entertainment world for almost a year. Carrying his drink, Kurt ventured up the grand staircase to the upper level of the gigantic house, where he found a short line of people waiting to use a restroom and a dozen closed doors.

The closed doors called to him; the idea of a quiet, solitary room was quite appealing. When he was sure nobody was looking, he opened one of the doors as quietly as he could and slipped stealthily inside.

The door led to a thankfully empty, large bedroom. From the en suite bathroom and balcony entrance, Kurt guessed it was a master bedroom. There were few personal effects in the room but, from what little he could see, it belonged to a man with good taste. The temptation to snoop was too strong to resist, and Kurt was browsing the contents of a built-in shelf before he knew what he was doing.

His fingers toyed around in a bowl of guitar picks, feeling the smooth plastic and sharp edges, as he looked at the books stacked next to it.

Sticking out of one of the books was a letter, the only discernible words from its current position _Dear Blaine, I am so sorry.  
_

Kurt picked up the book and cracked it open to the page marked by the letter. As he was pulling the letter out to read, the door opened. He slammed the book shut and placed it back on the shelf hastily.

"Oh!" exclaimed the newcomer. Kurt turned toward the door, trying to look as innocent as possible, bringing his drink to his lips. The man standing there took his breath away. Short hair curled messily atop a soft, yet commanding face with near-perfect features. A buttery brown leather jacket spanned the width of his broad shoulders and the white t-shirt beneath hugged his trim waist. Jeans stretched tight across his hips and thighs and pooled at his ankles, giving away his shorter stature. The stranger looked to be older than Kurt's twenty-two years, but couldn't be a day over thirty. He gave off an effortless and confident vibe, and Kurt could not stop himself from feeling very, very interested in the man he mentally dubbed Dreamboat McTightPants.

"Usually when I walk in on someone in a bedroom at a party, they're a lot less clothed. But I have to say, I wouldn't have been upset to find someone as sexy as you in that state." Dreamboat McTightPants winked salaciously, and Kurt's attraction vanished instantly. He sighed. _Another day, another asshole,_ he thought, rolling his eyes.

Dreamboat McTightPants – he might be an asshole, but he did look dreamy - closed the door behind him and took a few steps toward Kurt, who simultaneously walked away from the shelf. "Are you in the business? How did you land an invitation to such an exclusive party?" he asked with a cocky smile. Kurt now mentally shortened the nickname as Dreamboat came perilously close to becoming Dick McTightPants).

"I'm not, but my friend is. She brought me as her guest."

"Ah. I see." Kurt noticed the nod of recognition and the almost sadly expectant look in the stranger's eyes.

The man kicked off his shoes, flopped on the bed and stretched out with his hands crossed behind his head. Kurt considered leaving, but he was intrigued by this self-assured, and - okay, yes - _dreamy_ stranger; he blamed it on the alcohol.

"So, what is someone as gorgeous as you doing up here alone?" His eyes followed Kurt, who was walking around the bed to check out more of the room.

"Big parties like this aren't really my scene. I don't even know who this Blaine guy is."

"Oh, you don't?" The pitch of the Dreamboat's voice rose as he sat up straight.

"Nope." Kurt popped the 'p' and gently ran a finger over a painting that was a starburst of dozens of shades of blue. "Plus, I needed to get away for a minute. I have this...thing...with music."

"Yeah." Dreamboat laughed, his self-pleased smile slipping away. "Me too."

"And what are you doing up here?" Kurt returned the question.

"I needed to get away as well. It's really difficult being this good looking." The cockiness was back.

Kurt only hoped a little bit that Dreamboat couldn't hear him mutter "insufferable." Sadly, spending time listening to this guy talk about how much he loved himself was still better than attempting to care about mingling at the party. And he _was_ dreamy, damn him.

"So do you know this Anderson character? I hear he's a super mega rock star."

Dreamboat twisted his face for a second. "Something like that. Yeah, you could say I know him. Though sometimes I wonder exactly how well…"

"Ah," Kurt nodded. Dreamboat was probably another notch in Anderson's belt. "What's he like?"

"Really sexy, for one."

Definitely a notch in his belt.

"He's kind of an arrogant asshole most of the time, though. But I hear that once you get to know him, he's a sweet guy on the inside."

"I bet. Aren't they all?" Kurt had met his fair share of jerks throughout his college career. "Is his music any good?"

Dreamboat shrugged as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and perched there, watching Kurt intently. "It's all right. I'm pretty sure he's waiting for that big inspiration to strike. I don't think he's found that one big thing yet that will make his songs mean something." He paused thoughtfully. "What do you care, anyway?"

Kurt laughed. "I really don't, actually, I'm just not sure what else to talk about with you."

"Who says we need to talk?" Dreamboat winked again, seductively this time.

"Please," Kurt scoffed. "What makes you think I want to do anything like that with someone I just met?" But the Long Islands were taking their effect and the thought of hooking up was sounding better and better with each passing moment.

"It's New Year's Eve. Everyone wants someone to kiss at midnight. And we'd make a damn stunning pair."

Kurt played along. "You're right, we would. If I'm still here at midnight, proposition me again."

"Don't have to tell me twice. Now. Let's talk about anything but Blaine Anderson. Sometimes I wish I could just forget all about him."

After that, it was surprisingly easy to carry on a conversation. They talked for an hour, both eventually settling on the floor next to the bed. Kurt found that despite the rocky start, he actually really liked Dreamboat. They discussed movies and books, chatted about their shared love for fashion and adorable baby animals - anything except for music and Blaine Anderson

Aside from his cocky manner and initial too-flirty comments (which he abandoned as their conversation progressed), Dreamboat had quite a lovely personality. He was funny and matched Kurt's wittiness, a characteristic he'd been unable to find in other boys he had met in the city. His eyes, a glowing, brilliant brown, were expressive, an open book for Kurt to read, and genuinely conveyed that he was having an amazing time.

Kurt found himself, light and free after three drinks, drawing out the conversation so that he could still be around at the strike of midnight to see if the stranger would hold out on his promise.

"Do you live in New York, then?" Kurt asked as they discussed their favorite NYC cafés, discovering that they both loved the quiet Parisian café around the corner from Kurt's place.

"I visit often. I live in LA most of the time."

"That's where Mercedes lives, too. I haven't had the money to go out for a visit yet, but I hope to soon." He sighed dramatically.

"Such is the life of a broke college kid."

"Wait, Mercedes Jones?"

"You know her? She and I have been best friends since high school."

Dreamboat gave him a surprised and pleased look. "Really? Huh. I met her once when she was recording her first album. She's feisty, but a sweetheart."

Kurt laughed. "That's...very accurate."

Their hands brushed as Kurt moved to straighten himself, and their heads whipped up to look at each other. The heat that passed between them was undeniable.

"Want to go out on the balcony and watch the fireworks? They should be starting any time now."

Kurt could only nod and swallow dryly in response to the hopeful, husky voice.

Out on the balcony, they shivered in the cold winter wind, but Dreamboat pulled a blanket out from somewhere (Kurt didn't bother wondering where), and wrapped it around them both, pulling Kurt in close. They leaned on the railing of the balcony, with the sounds of the performances from the other side of the yard floating up toward them, but Kurt found he didn't mind one bit.

The fireworks began going off shortly after they stepped out, and the two men watched, shoulder-to-shoulder, awestruck.

"Those are my favorites," Kurt pointed out the huge, blossoming firework with sparks that seemed to fall all the way to the ground like a willow tree. "They remind me of love, a little bit. Or the love I'd like to have, anyway, you know? An explosion followed by a never ending shower of sparks that seem all-encompassing."

His comment was met with silence, and he realized that Dreamboat was watching him rather than the fireworks display with a strange smile on his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kurt blushed. "I get a little carried away with romance and metaphors sometimes. Was that too much?"

Instead of responding, Dreamboat turned his attention back to the fireworks and pointed out a different one that spread out in a powerful burst, but in the center, a concentration of sparkling embers glowed and glittered. "I'd prefer a love like that one. The initial explosion, but even as it spreads out and covers everything, the burning passion is still left in our hearts."

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief that was tinged with wanting. He inched his hand closer to Dreamboat's, and as the fireworks intensified, realized that he still didn't know his name.

"What's your name?" he asked breathlessly as his fingers were tangled up in a tight hold.

Rather than an answer, Dreamboat whispered a countdown. "Ten...nine...eight…"

_Oh_ , Kurt realized. _Midnight. New Year's Eve._

They leaned in until the last number left his lips, colorful fireworks blasting behind them.

"So...It's midnight and you're still here."

"It's true." Kurt could feel his heart pounding throughout his body.

"Should we…"

Kurt didn't wait for him to finish his thought. He captured Dreamboat's lips, the blanket falling off of their shoulders as their arms wrapped around each other. The warmth was no longer needed, the heat passing between them enough. Kurt's hands slid beneath the leather jacket, glorying in the hard muscles beneath the thin t-shirt, but he could hardly pay what was beneath his fingertips any mind because of what was happening with his mouth.

The intricate dance of their lips and tongues was perfectly choreographed and made them both shiver with a longing for more. It had been so long since Kurt had been with someone in that way, and even longer since he had been with someone in that way who fit perfectly with him and could tell what he wanted just with the slightest touch or change of pressure. It was glorious.

Kurt was the first to pull away, albeit reluctantly, hands gripping tightly onto Dreamboat's hips as he suggested they move inside.

Kicking the blanket out of the way, they crashed back through the doorway to the bedroom and fell sideways onto the bed, landing them in the perfect position for Kurt to roll on top. Their bodies pressed together deliciously, and Dreamboat began kissing down

Kurt's neck as he busied himself with working off his leather jacket.

Soon enough, they were both free of shirts, the feeling of the soft hair on Dreamboat's chest against his own aroused Kurt even more.

"I wonder what the guy whose bedroom this is would think of what we're doing in here?," Kurt gasped out as his chest was mapped out inch by inch, sounding wanton even to his own ears.

"I have a feeling he wouldn't mind one bit," was the growled response against his body.

Dreamboat pulled back to take in Kurt's physique with dark eyes, but only seconds later, Kurt brought their lips back together in a desperate tug. The sinful noises escaping the man's mouth were almost enough to bring Kurt to the edge.

He trailed his tongue along Dreamboat's jawline to suck at the junction between his jaw and his ear. In response, Dreamboat arched his back and let out a small cry of pleasure, his fingers tightening and digging into the upper part of Kurt's ass. Kurt pushed back into Dreamboat's grasp on his ass and reached for the button on his pants, but just at that moment the door was thrown open by a very intoxicated-looking man with tattoos up and down his arms.

Kurt rolled off of his partner and grabbed his shirt, threw it on and tried to hide his red face. Dreamboat, on the other hand, just lay there with a groan, not bothering to cover the evidence that he had very much enjoyed their make-out session.

"Dude! There you are. I've been looking everywhere. Get your clothes on and get your ass out here. Everyone is waiting on a performance from their host, Anderson!" He shut the door behind him and the two boys made eye contact, chests still heaving.

Kurt's jaw dropped.

Blaine shrugged. "Secret's out, I guess." He slipped his shirt and jacket back on, rearranged himself in his pants, and leaned down to give Kurt one last steaming kiss before walking out with a wave and a wink.

_What the hell just happened?  
_

Kurt composed himself the best he could and went back downstairs in somewhat of a fog, found Mercedes and insisted that they leave immediately.

And if Blaine looked out in the crowd for a certain someone's face too many times during his performance, he'd never tell how disappointed he was not to find him looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

 

_Blaine Anderson's Near-Run-In With the Law_

_Rockstar Anderson Bisexual?_

_Anderson's Ex Tells All_

_Singer Blaine Anderson Kicked Out of LA Bar_

_Allegations Against Rocker Anderson Dropped_

Kurt groaned and rubbed his eyes, closing the tabs on his browser and shutting the lid of the laptop carefully so as not to disturb a still-sleeping Mercedes.

Leaving the party last night, Kurt had told himself he would forget all about his evening with someone who he had thought was an amazing guy, but had turned out to be none other than _the_ Blaine Anderson. When Mercedes had asked where he had been all night, he brushed her off with a shrug and some vague explanation of his whereabouts. Once they arrived back at Kurt's place, of course, they both passed out.

But ever since they had parted, Kurt could not get Blaine out of his head. Aside from the heavy makeout session (which had been nothing short of phenomenal), Kurt had really enjoyed connecting with Blaine and chatting with him about their interests. Before knowing who he was, Kurt probably would have been agonizing over not exchanging phone numbers before they went their separate ways. Now, though, he was sure he wanted nothing to do with him.

Kurt had shut down the entertainment world a year ago when he had finally had enough of its criticisms and rejections. He could not date someone who was such a big part of it. As if bigshot Blaine would even want to see him again, anyway.

Still, Kurt spent the morning doing the worst thing he could possibly do: googling Blaine.

While he had not been arrested, as far as Kurt could tell, many articles reported altercations or other instances where Blaine had flirted with disaster. At one point, a fellow musician had even accused him of sexual harassment, but the charges were dropped. Blaine was photographed at high-profile events with both male and female dates, fueling the rumors that he was bisexual, though his only known ex was a man Kurt vaguely recognized as a model in many advertisements. His Wikipedia page reported that Blaine was a twenty-eight year old from a small town in Ohio whose older brother was also in the business as an actor, and whose parents were famous singers as well. Every interview Kurt could find on YouTube showed the pompous, self-centered Blaine who had walked in the room last night. There was no evidence of the sweet, giggly Blaine Anderson Kurt had gotten to know over the course of their conversation.

"You're going to strain yourself thinking that hard." Mercedes' gravelly morning hangover voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

He laughed at himself. It was ridiculous to be spending so much time thinking about Blaine when it was over. He set his laptop down and jumped up.

"Sorry, you know how I get. Let me make us some breakfast. By the way, there is Advil and water on the end table for you."

It was Mercedes' last day in New York, and Kurt was determined to make the most of it, hungover or not.

They ate, chatting about her performance the night before and the people she networked with, Kurt nodding supportively.

Her phone rang as they were cleaning up their dishes, and she stepped into the next room to answer it. The next thing he knew, her shrill voice was shouting at him.

" _Kurt Elizabeth Hummel_! How in the world did you fail to mention that you made out with Blaine Anderson last night?!"

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, dropping a soapy sponge back into the dishwater he'd been using.

"So it's true?" She rounded on him, arms crossing over her chest. "I thought maybe he had gotten the name wrong, but you look guilty as hell right now."

"I'm doing my best to forget about it." He resumed washing the dishes so he didn't have to see the hopeful look that lay under her glare.

"Why? That man is _tasty._ "

"And he's everything I don't need in my life. Plus, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want anything to do with me. Why would he?"

"Then why did he call me just now looking for you?"

Kurt froze.

"That's right. He tracked down my number because he remembered you said we were friends and he called me to find out how to reach you. If that's someone who isn't interested, then I don't know a damn thing."

"What does he want?" Kurt asked cautiously.

"What do you think he wants, boy? To discuss the stock market? No. He wants in those tight pants of yours."

Kurt laughed at his friend, but then sobered. "That's what I'm afraid of. Whatever. It's not like you gave him my number anyway."

Mercedes didn't respond.

"Because you'd never do that without my permission."

She hid her face behind her cup of coffee.

"Mercedes…What did you do?"

His phone vibrated on the table between them, the screen lighting up with the caller ID. No number was displayed, only the word "Unknown."

Kurt looked up slowly, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Oh, you are in _so_ much trouble."

"You know what? I'm going to go take a shower and let you answer that."

"Not so fast. And I'm not going to answer it."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not interested in being just another person he sleeps with and throws aside."

"Who said he's going to do that?"

Kurt mumbled sheepishly into his coffee. "The internet."

"Don't trust everything you read. You know what they said about me last month and how untrue that was."

Kurt's phone vibrated again, alerting him to a voicemail.

"Well, let's hear it."

He put it on speaker and played the message.

" _Hi. This is Blaine. Anderson. From last night. You know, we, uh… Anyway, I'd really like to see you again. I have a show tomorrow night in town and thought maybe you could come. I'll set aside two VIP tickets for you just in case you're free, and then we can meet up backstage afterward. Is that presumptuous of me to do that when you didn't even answer my call? Hmm. Well, Kurt, I really hope to see you tomorrow. 'Kay. Bye."_

Mercedes' eyes were wide as saucers. "I have never heard him like that before. That boy is smitten, Kurt! Please say you're going to his show."

Kurt shook his head sadly. "I just can't."

"Give it some thought at least."

Damn Mercedes and her way of getting him to do things he didn't want to do.

"Fine. I'll think about it."

* * *

Blaine was more nervous for his show than he had been since he first started performing, even when music bigwigs would come watch him sing in small coffee shops before his big break. Those shows were nothing compared to tonight, the night when Kurt could might watch him.

It was inexplicable, really, the feeling he had about Kurt, but Blaine had learned in his dating career to trust his instincts, so he refused to question it. The night they had shared at his party was so simple, yet one of the best Blaine could remember having in years. He had missed having someone he could talk to without having to be Blaine Anderson, Rockstar, someone who had no set expectations of how he should act or what he should say. As he gained more traction in the music world and more popularity in the outside world, he had actually thought he might never find someone like that again, but then...there Kurt was. Snarky, witty, _kind_ Kurt who had no idea who Blaine was, and that...that was everything.

It was everything after Tyler, who had used him to try to get his music heard. It was everything after Jon, who had slept with him and then broadcasted the news and never called Blaine back. It was everything after Brandt, who dated him for a month only to try to get close to one of his musician friends. After Sean, who had Blaine buy him endless things, and then disappeared. After Trey, who wanted a position in his band. After Alex, Drake, Robbie…

Blaine had yet to meet someone genuine since his rise to fame began, but he was naive enough to listen to his foolish heart every damn time, and his heart had been broken too many times to count.

It was easier to put off a devil may care attitude and flirt with anyone and everyone. His image slowly shifted from an average, unremarkable musician to a promiscuous, dangerous rockstar with a string of ex-lovers of all genders and a penchant for trouble.

Of course, Blaine hated one night stands and he was quite sure of his sexuality (solidly gay, thank you very much), but it was so simple to just accept what people were saying and play into it. Especially since Cooper, his manager and older brother, loved every second of the overdramatized goings-on of Blaine's public life.

So it was clear why Blaine was so drawn to Kurt, though he realized he would have been anyway, even if Kurt had known who he was. Blaine had needed to bite his tongue quite hard to hide the disappointment on his face when they were interrupted and his idiot friend had given away his secret.

Seeing Kurt again could be everything he dreamed. Or it could be an awful disaster. Now that Kurt knew who he was, how would things change between them? Would the nonjudgmental banter still exist? Would Kurt still give him those eyes that made him feel wanted for who he actually was? Would Blaine still be able to be open and honest with him?

He pictured Kurt's smile and imagined his laugh and felt the residual traces of his touch and held onto that instead of worrying.

Out on stage that night, Blaine sang his heart out, eager to show Kurt that under the image, he was the guy Kurt had bonded with last night, if there was any doubt. But it was all in vain, for Kurt never came to the show.

* * *

Kurt had moved on. That was what he told himself, at least. He had forgotten about the night he had spent getting to know at least one version of Blaine Anderson, about the news stories about the other version, about the phone call, and about the hour he had spent standing in his doorway, dressed to kill, warring with himself over whether or not he should show up to the concert.

Making the decision to stay home was the first step toward leaving that day in the past once and for all. He'd been avoiding Mercedes' calls, even, but he knew he couldn't do that forever.

It was in the last place he would suspect that he was forced to come face to face with what he had tried so hard to forget.

Saturday mornings, he and his friend Perry had a tradition of traveling across town to the indoor farmers market. The two of them had met when they were paired as roommates in the dorms their freshman year, and had been great friends since. Perry was the kind of friend who Kurt could always count on, and could always make him laugh. He had just returned from a semester abroad, and they were eager to resume their Saturday morning ritual of going to the market and eating too many baked goods without an ounce of regret.

"Oh my gosh, Kurt, you _have_ to try this," Perry raved, tearing off a piece of the pastry he'd just bought and holding it up to Kurt's lips as they walked among the market stalls. Most of it landed in his mouth, but some of the icing ended up on his cheek, so Perry reached over and wiped it clean with his finger and licked it off. That was when they literally stumbled into Blaine.

He wore a hat and sunglasses in an attempt to blend in with the crowd, but Kurt would have recognized him anywhere.

Perry caught Kurt as he rebounded off Blaine, and kept his hand on Kurt's arm.

"Oh my god, that's Blaine Anderson," he whispered.

Blaine, mouth slightly agape, slid off his sunglasses to look properly at Kurt, and all of the feelings Kurt had been introduced to on New Year's Eve came flooding back to him in a visceral reaction. Suddenly, Blaine wasn't the promiscuous bad boy of the entertainment magazines anymore. He wasn't even rockstar Blaine Anderson. He was just the guy Kurt had really enjoyed connecting with and whose kisses made him feel complete. He was the guy Kurt wanted to connect with and kiss again. And again. And again.

"Hi," Kurt said, sounding breathless.

"Hi. I missed you at my show last week, but I see now that you were probably busy."

Confusion kept him from forming a reasonable response, but when Perry dropped his arm and took a step away from him, Kurt realized what it must have looked like between the two of them from Blaine's perspective.

"Blaine…" Kurt began, but he was already backing away with a sad wave.

With Blaine's back to Kurt, neither would see the regretful and despairing look on the other's face.

Perry's voice pulled Kurt back to reality.

"I think you have some serious explaining to do. But first...go."

Without another second's hesitation, Kurt ran after Blaine before he could become the one that got away.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Kurt waited at the door of Blaine's apartment, balancing two smoothies, a bag with their lunch sandwiches, and his cell phone. He couldn't help but to be struck by how things had changed since their first date nearly a month earlier. Most of the questions and insecurities that had plagued their earliest days were resolved, thankfully. They saw each other at least twice a week and had learned so much more about each other.

Kurt fondly thought back on their first dinner together.

* * *

_It should have been awkward, the first date between two people who had met and kissed at a party, one not realizing the other's fame, only then to refuse to speak to or see him until a happenstance meeting. The date should have been full of stilted conversation, mumbled apologies, and plenty of silences that neither party knew how to fill._

_It was the opposite. From the moment Blaine saw Kurt walking up to the door of his hotel suite that evening, they both immediately fell into the comfortable space they had found the night of the party._

_Kurt greeted him with a tight hug that warmed him to the bones, and Blaine knew from that moment that all was well._

_The conversation was light and fun and just right for a first date. Blaine had attempted making dinner for them though he was not much of a cook, and Kurt praised his successes and poked fun at his failures._

_The only apology to be made was Kurt saying he was sorry he never made it to Blaine's show, and the only silences were far from awkward._

_Blaine breathed a sigh of relief as they laughed together over the most ridiculous things and bantered back and forth easily. He had worried that he had made up the Kurt from the party, or worse, that Kurt might have changed after finding out Blaine's true identity. His fears, of course, were totally unfounded, because Kurt was even better than he remembered and seemed not to care or even notice that Blaine was famous. As a bonus, now that his head and eyes were clear of alcohol, he could see that Kurt was even more gorgeous than he recalled. Had his first instinct about Kurt actually been right?_

_Things were going perfectly, but while Kurt talked about Blaine's food again, the creases between Blaine's eyebrows grew more and more pronounced._

" _This cobbler really is delicious, Blaine. You know, a man has never made me dinner before. So I really appreciate it. But you really didn't have to slave over baking and cooking all afternoon just for me. I would have been happy with takeout," Kurt joked._

" _I'm sorry," Blaine blurted out, face solemn as he looked down at his plate._

" _What for?"_

" _For not being able to take you out on a real date." Blaine was kicking himself then, afraid he had messed everything up. Kurt deserved a real first date, and that was something Blaine could never give to him. But much to his surprise, Kurt laughed._

" _This is a real date. I understand why we can't go out in public, but I don't need that anyway. I'd much rather be here with you."_

" _You would?" Blaine chewed his lip, trying but finding it difficult to believe Kurt. He wasn't used to his dates preferring to stay in. Usually they wanted to be seen with him by as many people as possible. Some of his dates in the past had even called the paparazzi themselves to tip them off to where they would be._

" _Of course," Kurt said sincerely, and Blaine swooned. "Call me selfish, but I want to have this for ourselves."_

_If Blaine had not already been rushing headfirst into his crush on Kurt, that would have put him over the edge._

" _Plus, you were nice enough to invite me over to your home. I'm sure that takes a lot of trust."_

_Blaine let his head fall to the table with a loud thunk. Could he get anything right?_

" _I'm fucking this all up. Shit. Kurt, I don't live here. I'm not even staying in this hotel."_

" _I don't understand?"_

_Blaine lifted his head just enough to peer up at Kurt. "I have a long history of guys using me and breaking my heart because of my fame. And I swear, it's not that I think you're like them, I just have learned how to protect myself, and one of those ways is to not give away anything personal. It's why I've called you from a restricted number, why I brought you to a fake hotel room, and it's why I never sleep with people anymore."_

" _What?"_

" _Oh God," Blaine put his head back down and mumbled into the table. "I didn't mean I don't want to sleep with you. I mean, I don't not want to sleep with you, I just...shut me up. Please."_

_Kurt stood and rounded the table, giving off what sounded like a chuckle. He gently pulled Blaine's shoulders until he was sitting upright and looked into his eyes._

" _I get it."_

_Blaine nodded dumbly into the abyss of Kurt's swirling gaze. "I—okay."_

" _And I'm sorry all of those assholes took advantage of you." Kurt leaned in and stroked a hand across his jawline._

_Why couldn't Blaine make his brain function? They looked at each other with Kurt's hand on his face for a moment._

" _So," Kurt started. "You said guys...you're not bisexual?"_

_He shook his head. "Boys. I like boys."_

" _Good. Me too. Not that there would be anything wrong with you being bisexual, I just have enough insecurities to deal with and don't fancy having the entire population as competition." He laughed self-deprecatingly. "And the other headlines and rumors out there?"_

_Blaine smiled, his head finally catching up. "Well I can't give away all my secrets on the first date."_

_He winked and as Kurt came even closer, he said, "Ah, there's the Blaine Anderson I met at the party. I was beginning to wonder what happened to him."_

" _Pretty boys make his brain stop working sometimes. And he doesn't think he needs to be that stuck up jerk around you."_

" _Hmm. I think he's right."_

_Kurt closed the distance between them in a soft kiss. "I hear you don't sleep around, but how do you feel about making out on the couch?"_

" _Really good. I feel really good about that." Blaine nodded seriously._

" _Great." Kurt grabbed him by the front of his shirt and stood him up. "Because I've been dying to get my hands on you again."_

* * *

Kurt's gaze was far off and there was a dreamy smile plastered on his face when Blaine finally answered the door, out of breath.

"I'm sorry! Cooper had me on a conference call with a producer and he would not shut up. Uh—" Blaine stopped and took in Kurt's facial expression. "Why are you smiling like that?"

Kurt shook his head to clear it and walked into the apartment, kissing Blaine's cheek as he passed. "Just remembering our first date."

Blaine followed behind him, shutting the door. "Yikes. I was such an idiot. I still don't understand why you came back for a second date."

"There must just be something about you," Kurt teased. "I can't believe I've had a whole month with you here. I thought I'd only have a few days before you had to go back to your busy life." He unpacked the food and set it on the table for them to begin eating.

Blaine had originally been supposed to return to Los Angeles the week after their first date to begin recording his next album, but he had talked Cooper into setting him up with a studio in New York City after meeting Kurt. He didn't tell Kurt that was the reason though, it was far too soon to admit something that was so heavy with commitment.

"It's been the best month of my life," Blaine admitted sweetly, kissing Kurt's face. Being with Kurt was truly refreshing. The only thing he expected of Blaine was for him to be himself, and Blaine found it remarkably easy to do so, even though he'd struggled to know who he really was for the past few years.

Admittedly, though, they'd hit a speed bump a few dates in, when Blaine made a public appearance and, in front of the cameras, reverted back into the flirty, cocky man Kurt had first met. Kurt was disappointed to see the change, but in the end they both agreed that it made no sense for Blaine to change his public persona, because, to the insistence of both men, they had decided to keep their relationship under wraps.

Blaine did not want to publicize their relationship because he feared it would tear him and Kurt apart. He had seen it happen too many times, both to himself and others, where the non-celebrity partner changed after receiving attention from the media and fans. Either they became greedy and selfish, or ran screaming at the 24/7 invasion of privacy. He couldn't bear for that to happen with Kurt, and though he trusted him thus far, it was too early in their relationship to guarantee that he wasn't going to do one or the other.

Kurt had his own reasons - primarily that he had deliberately distanced himself from the entertainment world. Announcing that he was dating Blaine would lead to events and photographs, and a head-first dive into the world he had sworn off.

Because they refused to divulge their relationship status to the public their dates were mostly restricted to either Kurt's place or Blaine's place, but it suited the two homebodies well. There was a certain level of comfort required, though, to allow a relationship to form in their personal space, and Kurt was nervous that due to Blaine's previous experiences, it may take longer than usual. But contrary to what Kurt expected, Blaine had not taken long to let him in at all.

* * *

" _Kurt, I really need to go now," Blaine pleaded halfheartedly to the man pressing him into the couch cushions._

_Kurt reluctantly let up, touching his fingers to his lips where they tingled from contact with Blaine's. "I wish you didn't have to be at the studio early tomorrow," he pouted._

" _Me too. But I'm hoping we can do this again. Soon. My turn to host next time?"_

" _Will I sound too desperate if I ask if we can see each other tomorrow?"_

" _If that makes you desperate, then I'm equally guilty," Blaine said._

_Kurt kissed the smirk off his face until Blaine was pushing him away again._

" _Okay, okay," he relented, allowing Blaine off the couch and toward the door this time. He had come to expect them to set up a specific time and place for their dates because he didn't have Blaine's number, something that was slightly inconvenient, but he understood and respected the reasoning behind. So when Blaine left without confirming when they'd see each other next, Kurt panicked and called out down the hall, "Wait! What time tomorrow?"_

_Blaine called back, "I'll be in contact!"_

_Kurt shut the door and sighed happily. Blaine was everything he'd been looking for in a man and more. He giggled like a child remembering how kissing Blaine made him feel until the vibration of his phone on a nearby table startled him out of his thoughts._

_He had a text from an unfamiliar number._

**5:30 tomorrow. 1421 Cherry, apartment 3B. Call me when you arrive and I'll come down and let you in.**

_Kurt squealed and held his phone to his chest before promptly dropping into a chair and kicking his socked feet in the air._

* * *

Blaine had let Kurt into many aspects of his life he normally did not share with anyone anymore, but it had taken him only two dates to realize that Kurt was the real deal.

One part of his life Blaine had not yet been able to share with Kurt was his music, and that was the one thing about their relationship that made him uneasy. Every time he brought up his music, Kurt changed the subject. Blaine had invited him to probably a dozen shows since they had met, and Kurt had refused every last one. He appreciated that Kurt liked him for more than his status, but he wished he could share his passion with the guy with whom he wanted to spend every waking hour.

Then there was the elephant in the room: both of them were aware that Blaine was leaving to go on tour in another couple of weeks, but neither of them had brought it up. It was a mixture of denial and apprehension that kept them both from discussing it, but the conversation could hardly wait much longer.

"Thanks so much for grabbing lunch, Kurt." Blaine beamed at him before taking a huge bite of his sandwich. "I'm sorry I only have an hour before I have to get back, but…"

"But?" Kurt prompted curiously, feeling Blaine's nerves floating in the space between them.

"But I was wondering if you would want to come back to the studio with me and be the first to hear some of my new stuff?"

Kurt could see how hopeful Blaine was as he asked, and it broke his heart to have to turn him down.

"I can't, Blaine. I need to get back to finish an essay for my morning class."

He watched as Blaine's face fell. "Okay. Maybe next time."

"Yeah," Kurt said noncommittally.

"Are we still on for going to my parents' house tomorrow?"

"Of course we are. I wouldn't miss it."

Blaine's parents had wanted to throw him an early birthday dinner since he would be on tour during his actual birthday, so the two were headed to the house in New Jersey where Kurt would meet Blaine's family for the first time, including Cooper.

Kurt couldn't remember ever being so nervous in his life.

* * *

Kurt's nerves turned out to be for naught. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, as aloof and disconnected as they were, were perfectly nice to Kurt, and Cooper was exactly what Kurt had expected based upon Blaine's description of him. He was immature and boisterous and self-involved and Kurt _loved_ him. Cooper had given Blaine the nod, too, which Blaine appreciated more than anyone could know, because despite all of Cooper's many, many flaws, he was a brilliant judge of character, and had been the only person in his life to stand by him no matter what.

After a post-dinner drink with Cooper and Mr. Anderson, Blaine and Kurt retreated to Blaine's room, where they had met the first time, to hoots and hollers from Cooper.

"Please ignore him." Blaine rolled his eyes. "I tried warning you, but some things just can't be adequately described using only words."

Kurt chuckled. "Don't worry. He's actually really great."

Blaine breathed out in relief. Two of the most important men in his life approved of each other. "Okay. I'm glad you think so. Just do me a favor and don't ever mention that to him."

"Deal. Hey!" Kurt exclaimed suddenly, turning away from the window out of which he had been looking. "Grab that blanket and follow me." He gestured to the large, soft blanket on the bed before heading out the balcony doors.

"What are we doing?" Blaine asked when he caught up with Kurt, bringing the blanket and shutting the door behind him.

Kurt just smiled and pointed off into the distance.

"Fireworks," Blaine breathed. They weren't as extravagant as the show on New Year's Eve, but fireworks were still symbolic for the two of them, so Blaine wrapped Kurt and himself in the blanket and they cuddled together watching the bursts of light and feeling the beating of the other's heart.

"This past month with you has been phenomenal," Blaine confessed, tilting his head to look at Kurt. "I'm beyond grateful that you wandered into my room that night."

Kurt's pulse pounded in his ears. "I thank Mercedes every day for dragging me with her to your party. You're...you're worth every bad date. Every awful guy I've met, everyone I've dated and had bad breakups with...they were all worth it to get to you. And I know you've been hurt more than you deserve, and I don't know how to show you how much I appreciate you letting me in."

Blaine's eyes shone with something Kurt had never seen from him before, and he knew something had shifted between them.

"I can think of a way…" Blaine pressed their bodies together and kissed him fiercely.

"You mean—?" Kurt cut off with a gasp as Blaine sucked a tender spot on his neck.

"I mean," Blaine affirmed.

When Blaine had first mentioned to Kurt that he strongly guarded the most intimate act because of his history with guys taking advantage of him, Kurt had not questioned or pushed him on the matter. He hadn't made any moves to do anything more than kissing and grinding together either, so Blaine knew he would have to be the one to initiate when he was ready. And he was ready.

They did not even make it as far as the door. Blaine guided Kurt to a reclined patio chair and pulled him down to straddle his hips, reaching up desperately to keep their lips linked.

Kurt rearranged the blanket around them, refusing to notice the cold air sneaking in around the edges. As on their first night together, the heat they generated in their passion warmed them through to the toes. Kurt nipped along Blaine's collarbone and up to his earlobe, which he tugged on with his teeth. The simple action made Blaine arch his back with a high pitched gasp, and _okay,_ he liked it a little rougher, Kurt noted.

Blaine threw his head back to give Kurt better access to his neck and blindly started unbuttoning their shirts. With surprising success, he slid Kurt's shirt off his shoulders smoothly, unable to get him undressed quickly enough.

"We should — inside — right?" Kurt stumbled around the words while Blaine brushed his thumbs over his nipples.

"Nobody is out here, it's fine," Blaine assured him.

"But...supplies?"

Blaine cursed, and dragged Kurt inside. While up, he grabbed lube and a condom out of his duffel bag and threw them on the nightstand before whipping off his shirt the rest of the way and removing the rest of his clothes in the process. He pounced on Kurt, who was fumbling with his jeans button while he watched Blaine, jaw dropping.

"Oh good god you're hot," Kurt growled, having only gotten his pants down halfway, but throwing himself into a kiss with Blaine anyway.

Blaine managed to wiggle the pants down his calves and off his feet while they made out, making sure to press their bodies together wherever new skin was revealed. He had longed to be with Kurt like this since their first date, and he was determined to make every last second count.

Once free from his clothes, Kurt grabbed Blaine around the waist and flipped him onto his back so that Kurt was on top again.

"You're breathtaking," Blaine whispered between kisses, hands roaming across the expanses of bare skin on Kurt's back and shoulders and down to his ass.

Kurt ran his hands from Blaine's shoulders down to his wrists, which he pinned down to the mattress next to his head. Holding him there, he lined them up perfectly and began rocking slowly into Blaine, causing all remaining rational thought to fly out the window as they handed themselves over to their instincts.

"Fucking hell," Blaine gasped. "Lube. Now or I won't make it."

Kurt twisted around to grab the lube and condom and held them out to Blaine, giving him the choice.

"I'm happy either way," Kurt told him.

Blaine took the lube and shoved Kurt's hand with the condom away without much thought, and just the idea of being inside of Blaine made Kurt's cock jump with excitement.

He tore open the condom package and rolled it on, then looked up, intending to return to Blaine's side to start opening him up, but he found that Blaine had his legs spread already, a slicked up finger disappearing past his rim.

"Jesus Christ," Kurt muttered, stroking himself as he watched Blaine writhe in pleasure to the tempo of his moving finger, heavy-lidded eyes locked on Kurt.

Kurt abandoned his own erection and launched forward, kissing up Blaine's thigh until he was lying on his stomach between Blaine's legs. He lubed his own finger and slipped it in alongside Blaine's, sucking a mark into his inner thigh as he did so.

"Oh, oh, oh," Blaine grunted out in shallow breaths as he was worked over by both Kurt and his own hand.

"Are you ready?" Kurt asked desperately. "You're so incredibly sexy. I need you _now_."

"I'm ready," Blaine said with closed eyes. When he felt Kurt stand from the bed, though, he opened them. "Wait, where are you—?"

Kurt cut him off by grabbing his legs and pulling him around to lay at the edge of the bed, which Kurt now stood beside. He guided Blaine's legs to wrap around his hips and lined himself up. Blaine pushed his hips forward, causing Kurt's cock to breach the very entrance to his body, and met with little resistance, Kurt pushed in all at once until he was buried deep.

" _Fuck,"_ they cried in unison.

Kurt tried to gauge how fast and how hard he should go (as if he could really help it at that point), and as though Blaine could read his mind, he told him with a resolute nod, "I can take it."

With permission granted, Kurt pulled almost all the way out and snapped his hips forward again.

Blaine felt so good tensed around him that he never wanted it to end, but he knew realistically that he wouldn't make it much longer. He shifted Blaine down slightly, tilting his pelvis so that each thrust of Kurt's hit Blaine's prostate.

The maneuver had Blaine sweating, moaning, and biting his lip.

"So fucking good, Kurt," he said, throwing his head back as Kurt grabbed his waist to be able to better control their rhythm. Blaine dug his heels into Kurt's back and pulled him forward to encourage Kurt to go harder.

"I won't — soon," Kurt tried to explain, but was having difficulty stringing words together into full thoughts.

Blaine understood anyway. He wrapped a hand around his cock, frantically pumping and twisting as he felt the beginnings of his orgasm building.

"I'm going to come," he warned Kurt, who opened his eyes and watched Blaine lustfully through his climax, the way Blaine's face contorted and his back arched, and the pearly ropes of come decorated his stomach guiding him right to his own orgasm.

" _Blaine,_ " he cried as he finished. He stilled, catching his breath and watching Blaine's chest heave. He slowly pulled out, leaving Blaine hissing in sensitivity, and removed and tied off the condom.

A minute later, after cleaning them both up, he made his way into the bed and spooned up in front of Blaine.

Blaine kissed his shoulder and cuddled in closer until they fell asleep, neither saying a word but for the nonverbal communication of their bodies that spoke of affection and adoration.

* * *

Blaine crawling clumsily out of bed the following morning woke Kurt, who smiled widely before even opening his eyes.

"Mm, where you going?" Kurt asked, stretching out his sore body. He remembered that he was naked below the sheets and his grin grew even wider.

"Just going to get us some coffee," Blaine said softly, leaning over him and placing a kiss on his forehead before slipping out of the room.

Kurt pulled the pillow over his head as soon as Blaine had gone and muffled a giddy scream. He had never had such physical chemistry with anyone he had been with, and to find it with someone as amazing as Blaine was beyond his wildest dreams.

"Your coffee, my dear," Blaine said when he returned, presenting the mug to Kurt dramatically as Kurt pushed himself up to sitting.

Kurt watched Blaine settle back into bed, and recognized a conflicted look on Blaine's face.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

Blaine fidgeted with the hem of his boxers. "There's something we need to talk about."

Kurt swallowed with a gulp and set his mug on the nightstand next to him.

"We both know I'm leaving for tour in two days, but we haven't discussed it at all."

"Do we have to?" Kurt whined, drawing a laugh out of Blaine.

"Unfortunately. It's unavoidable. I'm just going to lay it on the line, okay?" Blaine took a deep breath and continued. "My tour is two months long, and then I have to go back home to LA after it's over. It shouldn't come as any surprise to you that I've become attached to you, Kurt. I don't want what we have to end just because of the physical distance between us. I don't know how to make it work - I've never done long distance before, but I really want to try." He couldn't bring himself to look up to see Kurt's reaction. "Please say you feel the same."

A hand found his face and gently stroked his cheek, drawing his eyes up to the beautiful face he'd come to have a serious weakness for.

"Of course I feel the same. I'm not willing to give this up without at least trying." Kurt waved his hand between them, then rested it back in Blaine's lap, where Blaine grasped it tightly.

"I've thought a lot about it. We can Skype as often as we want, I can fly back to NYC once each month, and you can fly out to wherever I am - on me. I'll leave standing VIP tickets for you at each of my shows. I'd love for you to make as many as you can. It would really mean a lot to me."

Kurt's hand tensed around Blaine's fingers. It was too early in the morning to have this conversation.

"Blaine. I have to tell you something. I can't go to any of your shows."

"Ever?"

Kurt shook his head sadly. He began to tear up at the miserable look on Blaine's face.

"But... _why_?"

"I'm so sorry. It's not you, I promise. Music...it used to be my life. I was in show choir in high school. My dad will tell you he could never get me to stop singing. When I left to come out here to NYC, I was a musical theater major, with big dreams to end up on Broadway. But it was harder than I ever thought it could be. My professors were tough on me, my classmates laughed at my dream to fill some of the big roles I coveted because of my feminine voice and looks, and I was shot down at every audition.

"It wore on me, and got to be too much, and I realized that I had started to hate the one thing that used to make me happiest. So I shut it all out. I avoid listening to music like the plague, because it reminds me of my failure of achieving my dream. So you have to understand why I can't listen to you sing."

Blaine crossed his arms over his robed chest. "I don't understand, though."

"Why not?"

"Your relationship with music changed once, why can't it change again?"

"Because it's done nothing for me recently but bring me pain!"

Blaine was deathly quiet when he spoke. "It's brought us together."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I just don't see how we could be together when music is such a huge part of my life, but you won't accept it. It feels like you're not accepting me. Can you just try? Please?"

A long pause stretched between them as they regarded each other sadly.

"If I say no?"

"Then we have to go our separate ways. Please, Kurt."

Kurt knew one breath could blow over the house of cards that was Blaine in that moment.

He looked Blaine in the face and a tear escaped the corner of his eye.

"I'm sorry. I can't."


	4. Epilogue

 

Life without Blaine was awful. Kurt had grown used to having someone to talk to at all times; someone to turn to when he needed comfort and to make him laugh when he needed it most. He had loved knowing that Blaine was _there_ for him, all caring and adorable and sexy and himself, a side that most people never had the privilege to see.

All of that was gone now, essentially because of Kurt's selfishness. Originally, he had justified the decision he had made between Blaine and his ultimatum. But sitting on his couch two weeks later, he failed to see how it made any sense.

In hindsight, it was easy to recognize that Blaine was the greatest thing that could have happened to him at this point in his life. And he had stupidly let him go.

"Idiot," he muttered to himself. A few people turned to look as he passed them on the streets. Thankfully he was almost home, where he could wallow in self-pity and regret with the company of a gallon of vanilla ice cream.

Just after unlocking the door to his apartment, his phone rang.

"Mercedes," he greeted.

"Hi boo," she responded. "How are you on the heartbreak scale today?"

Kurt sighed, flopping onto his couch. "About an eight. I thought it was supposed to get better with time, not worse."

"Well whoever wrote those rules clearly never dated Blaine Anderson."

"He's not easy to forget about."

"I hear he has a birthday coming up. Some friends of mine are planning on going to his show out here tomorrow night then out with him to celebrate. They invited me, I just wanted to check with you first to see what you thought of me going."

"I don't have a problem with that, Mercedes."

"You know…" she started, and he knew that tone of voice. It was her "I have an idea you're not going to like" voice.

"What?"

"You should join us."

"Um," Kurt scoffed. "You live in California."

"That's what airplanes are for."

"I don't have money for that."

"It's on me."

"But the music thing."

"Haven't the past two weeks of misery taught you anything?"

"I have…"

"You have run out of excuses is what you have," she retorted. "Book your flight for tonight and I'll you. See you!"

Kurt couldn't even bring himself to argue. As he sat there stunned at what had transpired, the reality of what he was doing hit him.

He was going to see Blaine. He was going to make it right.

* * *

Blaine dragged his feet back to his dressing room. Not even the flowers and sweets his friends had sent for his birthday could cheer him up. He felt guilty for the quality of performance he gave to his fans, but what could he do? It was impossible to find the motivation to go on stage every other night when his inspiration had taken himself out of his life.

His tablet alerted him to a video message. From Kurt.

His heart was in his throat as he pushed play and the gorgeous face he'd missed so much filled the screen.

"Hi Blaine. I know you're busy, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm finally facing my fears, thanks to you, because you're the one person worth doing that for. I miss you so much. Mercedes said a bunch of you are going out tonight, so have fun, and give her a big hug from me. Oh, and Blaine? _Happy birthday to you…"_

Blaine blinked in awe before pushing the replay button again. And again.

Kurt's message made him hopeful and lifted his spirits in a way that nobody else had been able to do in the last two weeks. Maybe they stood a chance if Kurt really was willing to try for him.

He hauled himself out of his chair and to the backstage area, ready to perform. He knew tonight's show would make up for the lackluster performances he'd been giving. Because he had a reason to perform again.

* * *

The stage was dark and Blaine chugged half a bottle of water as he clutched his guitar in one hand. The wild crowd was cheering and chanting and waiting impatiently on him to come out for an encore. The show had gone so well, his new songs well-received, and his old songs inviting the audience to sing along, a phenomenon that still gave him goosebumps. It was a particularly fun show because he could hear his friends in the crowd, shouting louder than everyone else.

His last song was an acoustic number, one he had written about Kurt after the night they had met. It was special to him, especially after the way their relationship had progressed, and he loved being able to strip down and sing with his heart on his sleeve. His acoustic songs were some of the ones his fans loved most, probably because they could feel his emotions coming through. This one was different, though. It was the first song he'd written that felt like something real. Something important.

The lights came back on and he ran back out on stage, sitting on a stool with one toe still touching the ground, and positioning the mic in front of him.

"Thank you all for coming out tonight. Here's one last song. It's called 'Like A Firework.'"

He started playing with his eyes closed, letting the music wash through him and consume him, and he played his heart out.

Toward the end of the song, his eyes found a particular spot near the front of the stage and he was sure he was dreaming, because there was Kurt, in all his brilliance, a wide smile on his face and tears in his eyes.

He had to concentrate not to stumble through the chords and to remember the words, and for the remainder of the song, his gaze never left the beautiful man who he had never expected to show up.

When he played the last note, he couldn't get his guitar off quick enough, running to the front of the stage and squatting down in front of what he was sure must have been a mirage. Everyone was watching carefully, cameras snapping pictures from all angles.

"You're really here," he breathed as he reached out to touch Kurt's hair.

"I am. You were sensational tonight."

"I can't believe you did this for me."

"You better believe it."

Blaine took Kurt's face in his hands and leaned in.

"They're going to know," Kurt warned. "Everyone is taking pictures and it'll be everywhere tomorrow. We won't be able to hide anymore."

Blaine wasn't afraid any longer, though. "If you're sure about this, I don't want to hide anymore."

"I've never been surer of anything."

"Then let's do it."

Kurt closed the distance between their mouths and gave him a kiss that conveyed his honesty and commitment.

The sound of fireworks booming in the distance made them both laugh.

"Let's do it."


End file.
